


Athazagoraphobia

by neurotrophicfactors



Series: The Fools' Journey [2]
Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona Q: Shadow of the Labyrinth
Genre: Canonical Character Death, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neurotrophicfactors/pseuds/neurotrophicfactors
Summary: Souji falls for a boy he is doomed to forget, and Minato falls in love with a memory.





	1. Shiver

**Author's Note:**

> While you don't really _need_ to read Oblitophobia to understand this story, I'd highly recommend it for the extra context, if nothing else. I had a mighty need to continue this story. No beta, so I'm liable to make small edits in the future.

The leader of SEES, in battle, is a sight to behold. Blue hair flying about his face, brows furrowed in concentration, short-sword gripped tight in his hand. How many times has Souji read about heroes ‘ _moving like their blades are an extension of their body?_ ’ Enough times that the phrase has become stale and clichéd, but seeing the way Arisato Minato fights, there is no better way to describe it. He puts his full weight behind every strike and follows through with effortless grace, like his blade is a conductor’s baton and his body is eager to perform. It’s breathtaking.

Souji asks Minato’s teammate, Junpei, about it after SEES and the Investigation Team officialize their alliance and appoint Souji as the leader of their joint efforts—a decision that he is still reeling from, if he’s being honest. For now, however, they are resting in the strange facsimile of Yasogami High’s culture festival. It’s a fairly accurate portrayal made eerie by the fake students milling about, faces slipping from Souji’s memory before they can fully materialize, leaving all of them vague and indistinct. Their speech suffers the same fate: Souji can make out phonemes that _sound_ Japanese, but if asked, he could not reproduce a single word that was spoken. 

Junpei glances over his shoulder to where Minato is standing at the ice cream stand with Elizabeth, and the look on his face is simultaneously proud and envious. “Yeah, he’s the kendo champion at our school. Almost won the regional competition too, but got beat out by this prodigy-type guy. I think he even joined the club just so that he could get better at fighting Shadows.”

So he’s dedicated then. Souji files that information away with the loose-leaf collection he’s begun to accumulate. He’s learned a surprising amount in the short few hours that have passed since SEES came to their rescue in the labyrinth. While Minato takes command on the battlefield, it is clear that the group defers to Kirijo Mitsuru on non-combative matters. In the meantime, Minato will slip into the background like a moth taking refuge against a tree trunk, camouflaging with the rough bark until he fades into obscurity. It’s very deliberate and Souji is all too familiar with the motions of it: the way Minato hangs back while the others speak, hands tucked into his pockets and hunched over to make his slight frame appear even smaller. Like Souji, he’s taciturn by nature, but somehow he seems to become even quieter in those moments.

It reminds Souji of himself back before he came to Inaba and was dragged, kicking and screaming, from his shell. Aloof, except that Souji can see small slivers of affection dripping through the hairline fractures in Minato’s composure. Care that leaks through in tiny gestures and tinier smiles, just the slightest upward turn of his lips. But most of all, he feels familiar, as if they’re two sides of the same coin—another cliché.

Souji likes him. Usually it takes some time for him to warm up to another person beyond polite tolerance—still that reflexive urge to distance himself and avoid attachment—but he feels drawn to Minato in a similar way to how he’s drawn to his social links. Some unknowable part of him recognizing the potential for a bond to be forged between them, even if the power of social links is obsolete in this world between worlds.

He nods his thanks to Junpei and makes his way over to Minato and Elizabeth. He hopes that he will learn more in time to come.

 

 

“Sanada-senpai is definitely the Chariot.”

“Nope—Emperor,” Minato tells him.

Souji frowns. Akihiko is so similar to Chie with his athleticism and determination that he thought for sure they shared the same Arcana.

They’ve been doing this for the past ten minutes now: guessing which Arcana corresponds to each of their teammates. It’s a game that Souji proposed after Minato gave up on his nap between forays into the second labyrinth. They’re sitting alone together in a classroom on the three chairs that Minato pushed together as a makeshift cot, leaving the middle chair empty between them. The desks in their immediate vicinity have been pushed away from them in a haphazard circle for space, like the orchestra of a Greek theatre.

It feels liberating to talk openly about social links and the Velvet Room. Souji tried to talk to Yosuke about it, in the beginning, but he quickly realized that his experience was the exception and not the rule. It became awkward after that, and he never really brought it up again aside from a brief explanation of his multiple Personas to his teammates as new members joined.

“Yukiko is your Empress?” asks Minato.

“Priestess,” Souji corrects him. “Margaret is the Empress for me.”

Minato raises his eyebrows. “You have a social link with Margaret?”

“Yeah. You don’t have one with Elizabeth?”

Minato shakes his head, lips pursed. “I’ve taken her out of the Velvet Room before, but I didn’t think I even _could_ form a social link with her. I never got that feeling, you know?”

Souji does. “I have a social link with Marie as well: the Aeon Arcana.”

Minato looks up sharply at that. “ _What?_ There’s no such thing.”

“You’re familiar with the Major Arcana?”

The look Souji receives in response is pure disdain. “ _Yeah_. I did some research. Thought it would help out with my social links and, you know, the fact that my Shadows are literally based on the first twelve.”

Fair point. Souji gives Minato a sheepish smile in return. “Sorry. I had the same thought: figured that if I was familiar with the Tarot, it would give me an idea of what I’d be facing in my social links. The Aeon Arcana is a real thing though. I was confused when I saw it too, so I looked it up and apparently it’s an alternative name for the Judgement Arcana in the Thoth deck.”

Minato sighs, exasperated. “They sure don’t like to play hard-and-fast with the rules.”

Neither of them hazards a guess at who ‘ _they_ ’ are. Souji has no idea, and he doubts Minato really does either, but the truth of the statement is undeniable. It makes Souji wish Igor and Margaret had explained social links to him in greater detail; perhaps then it would feel like there is more method to the madness. Are all of the Major Arcana represented by social links? What determines who becomes a social link? Minato’s Hermit social link is with his teacher online while Souji’s is with a _fox_. How many social links are based on Souji’s progression with the Investigation Team and how many are simply people he hasn’t met yet? It’s all up in the air and the ambiguity of it makes him deeply uncomfortable.

Regardless, Souji is no longer alone in these thoughts and so he says quietly, “This is nice, you know? Talking about it. No one else understands.”

“Yeah…” Minato is even quieter. He bites his lip, staring down at the floor between his feet for a long minute before he blurts out, “Do you ever feel like you’re befriending all these people just for the power? Like you wouldn’t think twice about them if you didn’t sense the potential between you?”

Souji stares at him, eyes wide. The sun streaming through the classroom window doesn’t quite reach Minato at its current height; the angle is too sharp and it just catches the edge of Souji’s shoe where it presses against the leg of his chair. With Minato’s head bent low, his eyes are hidden behind the dark blue curtain of his bangs, but Souji can still see the downturned corners of his mouth as he frowns, his shoulders forming a taut line across his back.

Souji leans down with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. “It can start out that way,” he replies, his voice subdued. “I mean… when I first came here, I never planned on approaching _anyone_. It’s hard to say how many people I would have grown close to if I didn’t need social links but everything else was the same. That being said… I really do think that I’ve come to appreciate all of them in their own way. I wouldn’t say that my friendship with them is disingenuous. What about you?”

Minato sighs through his nose and his mouth twists briefly, like he’s tasting something bitter. He still doesn’t meet Souji’s eyes. “Sometimes,” he says, like an admission. “It’s not that I _dislike_ them or don’t care or anything—okay, maybe my Devil social link, but he’s a real piece of work. I just… It’s weird, because I’ve had this huge impact on their lives and it’s just a few of them, but I don’t feel the same way. I don’t feel like they’ve changed my life by being a part of it and I _know_ it’s cold, I just… I _care_ and they’re good people, but I know that I wouldn’t be friends with them if I wasn’t getting anything out of it.”

This is the most Souji has ever heard Minato talk since they’ve met and the boldfaced honesty of it tugs at something in his chest. It’s an echo of the same fears he’s never had the courage to give voice to and he can’t help but feel a wave of admiration for Minato’s bravery.

He smiles and narrowly resists the urge to take Minato’s hand in his. “You’re a better person than you think you are.”

Minato looks up at him skeptically. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well _I_ believe in you.”

Minato drops his gaze then, humming his acknowledgement, but the silence that follows isn’t an uncomfortable one. They can hear the distant chatter of their teammates among the fake student body outside the classroom as well as the music drifting from various festival displays. It’s muted; offering a modicum of privacy without isolating them. It’s just the right degree of separation to relax with the knowledge that they can leap to their friends’ aid at a moment’s notice. Souji can see why Minato sought this room out in the first place.

Surprisingly, it’s Minato who breaks the silence between them.

“So how many girls have confessed to you?”

Souji chokes on his own spit and coughs, feeling his face heat up furiously. Minato is smirking at him. Once he finally regains the breath in his lungs, he rasps out, “ _Too many_.”

“How many is ‘ _too many?_ ’”

Souji grimaces. “ _One_ is too many.”

There’s a moment of confusion before comprehension dawns in Minato’s expression and he says, “Ah.” Somehow, he seems to settle at Souji’s reply, leaning back in his seat a little more comfortably as he stretches his legs out in front of him. “So _that’s_ how it is. Does your team know?”

“Some of them. Yukiko looks at me like she knows, I told Kanji, and Naoto figured it out by herself. Things are still really touch and go for Teddie right now, so I’m not sure if he would even understand it if I told him, let alone the need for discretion. As for the others… I don’t know. There’s no particular reason I haven’t told Chie, but I worry about the other two.” Souji bites his lip, imagining Rise’s tears and Yosuke’s shock, and Minato nods sympathetically. “What about you?”

Minato sighs. “I don’t know. It’s weird. I don’t really get _asked out_ , but I think a lot of girls assume we’re dating anyway because I’m nice to them and even though I never reciprocate, I’m also too fucking awkward to reject them outright until things start getting serious. It’s awful, I know, but I just freeze up.” Minato’s face has gone entirely red and he covers his face with his hands. “I’ve had to dodge so many kisses and I even had a girl tell me she wanted our future children to look like me.” He sounds _mortified_.

Souji can’t help it: he snickers. Minato lifts his head just enough to throw a glare at him. “I’m sorry, but it serves you right. You need to learn to say ‘no’.”

He grumbles, “Usually I’m great at saying ‘no’.”

Souji pats his shoulder comfortingly. “So it’s the same for you then? No girls?”

Minato wrinkles his nose. “I’m not really interested in people in general, but girls less so. Calling myself bi would be generous.”

“But you _do_ like guys.”

“Yeah, sometimes. More often than I like girls.”

Souji feels something like satisfaction at that. It’s more than appreciation for a kindred spirit, he knows, but not something that needs closer examination either. If anything, it seems like a foregone conclusion. The Wild Cards are drawn to each other indeed.

He smiles to himself and gives Minato’s shoulder a squeeze.

 

 

It is all but guaranteed that when this is over, it will be awkward for Souji to face SEES and the Investigation Team again, but for now he is content to push his anxieties down and enjoy the moment: the warmth of Minato’s palm against his and their fingers laced together as they traverse the bottommost level of the Group Date Café. He’s not ignorant of the danger being posed to them as they forge on ahead without backup, but that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate the stolen time alone.

Minato has been adorably flustered ever since the mechanical voice in the labyrinth declared that the two of them were destined partners, and flustered Minato vacillates between prickly reticence and dorky musings. It’s incredibly endearing. Souji didn’t have the courage to tell him that he looked pretty in the photochopped wedding photo of the two of them, but he did tell Minato about his own crossdressing exploits in Yasogami High’s beauty pageant.

Minato had shrugged in response. “I mean, I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I don’t care about the dress. It’s the clearly feminine body that makes it kind of weird.”

And _huh_ , now Souji really wants to see him in a dress. He never thought he had a thing for that, but he’s been discovering all sorts of new things about himself recently.

The absurdity of the whole situation reaches a peak when Souji and Minato find themselves standing outside of the high, arched doors of a church (Souji marvels again at how far they must have fallen for the structure to fit down here). Though the roof lacks a steeple, the church is stunningly authentic: it’s small and the architectural style is distinctly Western, with grey stone lunging toward the artificial sky and pillars of pale concrete that rise on either side of the double-doors. Souji gapes at the building before them, and when he glances at Minato, he finds the other boy doing the same. A pair of hearts and trumpet-wielding cupids are engraved on the doors.

The mechanical voice cuts through their thoughts.

“The long-awaited moment has come. The bride and groom are finally about to enter. The last moment of hesitation has arrived before you are to be wed.”

“Oh _hell_ ,” Minato groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“Through your own free will, you decide to vow eternal love to each other,” the voice continues. “Now, open the door together!”

A long, drawn out sigh. Minato meets Souji’s eyes, pink spreading across his cheeks like a watercolour painting. “Do we even have a choice?” he mutters.

Souji laughs and nudges him teasingly. “It won’t be so bad. I promise to take good care of you.” With a gentle tug, he pulls Minato along with him up the front steps. He pauses as he braces his free hand against the door in front of him. “By the way, Minato?”

“ _What?_ ”

Souji looks at him over his shoulder. “I hope that our children take after you.”

Generally speaking, Minato’s facial expressions are subtle: a narrowing of the eyes, the corners of his mouth tightening and relaxing in turn, a slight furrow forming between his brows, and the occasional smirk. Though he is fine-boned and lovely to look at, his lack of range closes off any future in acting. But now Souji is watching him as if in slow motion as Minato’s eyes widen with bewilderment and then turn stormy at the moment of realization. His brows come down with indignation and he flushes deeply red like a ripening fruit.

Souji grins to himself and before Minato can say a word, he throws open the church doors.

 

 

Igor once told Souji that the power of the Wild Card is like the number zero: empty, but full of infinite possibility. At the time he thought it was a metaphor referring specifically to his abilities as a Persona user, but he knows better now. When he first arrived in Inaba, Souji truly was empty; a hollow fortress that was well-lit and well-maintained to give off the illusion of hospitality even as desolation roamed its halls. Over the months that have passed, the structure itself remains unchanged, but warmth has seeped into the withered stone and breathed life into it. There are people he wishes to protect and he has welcomed them behind his outer walls, but there are still areas he has kept closed off, closer to his heart.

Minato has laid siege to every one of them.

Maybe it’s because Minato is the same as him, but he has deftly slipped past all of Souji’s defenses. Effortlessly, like this is where he belongs—and how can Souji deny him when Izanagi-no-Okami was born by fighting at his side? When hearing that name on Minato’s lips makes a sound like every locked door inside of him being torn from its hinges? It’s impossible, and even more so right now as they sit together on a wide windowsill, hands clasped and leaning into one another as they share Minato’s headphones. The warm weight of Minato’s head on his shoulder and the softness of his hair beneath Souji’s cheek. The sun shining down on their backs through the windowpane. This is what peace feels like, Souji thinks.

He closes his eyes, remembering the handful of days their teams have spent here in this pocket dimension. Wets his lips and says, “If you were a social link, which Arcana do you think you would be?”

Minato hums thoughtfully. “The Hanged Man. I used to feel like I was waiting to die, and waiting for everyone around me to die. Now I pretend to shoot myself in the head to summon my Persona.”

 _And his Persona is Messiah_ , neither of them say, but Souji knows that they’re both thinking the same thing.

“What about you?” asks Minato.

Souji sighs, stroking Minato’s thumb with his own. “I think I would be the Moon. There’s a lot that I keep buried deep down because—well, because of a lot of things. Because I’m afraid, because I don’t want the Investigation Team to be afraid, because I’m their leader… Everything about my parents and how stressed I was, growing up. I was even diagnosed with an obsessive-compulsive disorder when I was eleven and there was a long time when I struggled with ulcers. With everything that’s been going on, I think I might actually be getting one again.”

He laughs bitterly before he continues. “Sometimes my friends make these comments about how perfect I am and I _hate_ it. They don’t realize that I _had_ to be this way. I think that the only reason I never had a Shadow is because I know and accept all of these things about myself, I just… I don’t want them to know how weak I used to be and how fragile my strength is now.”

Minato squeezes his hand. “I get it. Sometimes they call me perfect too. They have no idea what I was like before I came to Gekkoukan. I was shit; I didn’t let myself care about anything. I skipped a lot of class, took advantage of the Dark Hour to pull dumb pranks when I had the heart for it. Only got my act together now because of everything with Persona and the Velvet Room.

“But _you?_ You’re stronger than you think, Souji. You’re not perfect like your friends say you are or like your parents want you to be, but you’re not weak.”

Souji smiles, gently freeing his hand from Minato’s to wrap his arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders. Like Souji with his own social links, somehow managing to say exactly what he needed to hear.

“Minato,” he says softly.

“Mm?”

A pause, and then, “I’m not a social link.”

Souji feels Minato’s head shift beneath his cheek, as if he’s trying to see Souji’s face. “Yeah…? I know.”

Souji flushes, arm tightening around him reflexively. “What I mean is… you have nothing to lose by rejecting me. I respect you too much to make things awkward between us.”

Minato goes still for a moment as the words and their meaning sink in before he turns his face into Souji’s neck. A shiver runs down his spine as Souji feels Minato sigh against the hollow of his throat, hot and humid.

“ _I know_ ,” Minato says, and he raises his hand to bring his palm to Souji’s chest, the edge of one finger catching in the open collar of his shirt.

Souji closes his eyes with a shudder and presses his nose and mouth to sun-soaked hair the colour of the ocean. Inhales the scent of sweat, sandalwood, and citrus. In this moment, he thinks that he understands Aigis better than anyone.

 

Souji’s first kiss takes place in a blue room with a boy with eyes like a storm. It’s gentle, and he wonders if Minato can feel the pounding of his heart with the way that they’re pressed together: Minato’s arms around his neck and one of Souji’s hands curled into the thick hair at his nape while the other grips the back of his jacket. One of them is trembling and Souji can’t tell who.

He talks against Minato’s lips because he can’t bear to pull away, and he whispers fiercely, “I like you _so much_ …”

Souji wonders if Minato is even aware of the sound he makes before he leans into him again, pressing their mouths into a second, harder kiss that makes Souji dizzy with want, and then Minato is saying, “I like you too.”

Souji tucks Minato’s head beneath his chin and pulls him closer, letting his eyes fall shut as he tries to memorize this feeling: the way Minato fits against him with his slight frame and the wiry strength in his arms as he returns the embrace, Minato's breath against his collarbone. In a moment they will be returning to their own times and Souji is terrified that he will forget about all of this. He can’t accept it.

He presses his mouth to Minato’s temple and says, “As soon as I can, I promise I’ll come find you.”

Minato’s fingers curl around his jacket. “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

Souji’s voice hardens. “I’m not. I’ll find you, okay?”

Minato pulls back a little, meeting Souji’s eyes with a searching gaze, and Souji is struck with the impulse to brush the blue bangs back from his face. He doesn’t, barely, and Minato must find what he’s looking for because he nods almost imperceptively as he says, “Okay. I’ll hold you to it.”

And then Souji kisses him one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sprinkles my sexuality and mental health headcanons all over everything) Thank you for reading this!! Everything after this chapter will follow Minato's perspective.


	2. Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minato is pretty sure his post-death existence isn't the universal (ha) experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said you don't need to read Oblitophobia? Changed my mind; it gives context to basically everything in this chapter. Oops.
> 
> Sorry this took so long to get out and that it's... probably a little rough. I struggled a bit with it and I was also drawing a lot. I'll probably edit stuff in the future!

For as long as he can remember, Minato has never been able to picture himself growing old. Perhaps it was the trauma of watching his parents die as a child that destroyed his concept of the future. Perhaps it was the depression that clung to his limbs like a parasitic ivy, leeching away both vitality and motivation. Or maybe some part of him was instinctively aware of the passenger he gained that fateful night on the Moonlight Bridge as chaos reigned all around him, heeded its whispers even as it murmured to him in a voice inaudible to human ears.

 _Memento mori_.

It was easy to die. Death is inevitable for all living things. And when Death wears a smile with the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen, when the bargain is one life in exchange for all lives, what other choice is there to make?

Darkness. Floating. Weightless. Memories. Minato remembers his entire life now, every moment available for him to call to the forefront of his… mind? Consciousness? Awareness.

The sun has no place here in the eternal night, but Minato sees it as he sifts through the images of his past, ignoring the wretched creature who shares his corner of the universe. It howls and thrashes like a gale-force wind, angry and impotent as it batters itself bloody against the walls of its cage. Erebus, it is called. At first Minato held onto the feeble hope that he would encounter a third being here—one that spoke with a voice that felt like home and reminded him of weight at the foot of his bed or Kyoto in autumn, but it was not meant to be.

He heard a voice he didn’t remember in the end, as he prepared the Great Seal. He remembers the cold night air cutting through both jacket and armour to reach the sweat on his skin. The feeling of his sword gripped tight in one hand and his Evoker in the other. The way his vision blurred and he was forced to blink rapidly as tears gathered and fell in a steady stream. He wasn’t sad, nor was he afraid. It was the love: overwhelming and all-consuming. The love from all of his friends, all of his social links, and the love he felt in return. So much that he could burst—after a life of apathy and self-seclusion, he never knew that he could feel so full.

But among the voices of his friends, his loved ones, there was one that he didn’t recognize, and what it said was the most curious thing of all.

‘ _Messiah… He suits you_ ,’ and, ‘ _As soon as I can, I promise I’ll come find you_.’

The voice was masculine but gentle, and every word was saturated with affection. Minato was certain that only one man had spoken to him like that before; a boy who was in love with life, whose smile was as sunny as the scarf around his neck. What really struck him was the comment about Messiah though. Not only was it a direct reference to his Persona, but it was a reference to a Persona that was only born just before Minato faced Nyx.

Back then there hadn’t been time to ruminate on it, but now Minato has nothing but time. He traces his steps backward from the moment he fell asleep in Aigis’s lap (the sun catching her blonde hair and turning it into a golden halo as she smiles down at him, thighs a more comfortable pillow than he would have expected), watching his life sped up in reverse like a rewinding VHS. He sees the cherry blossoms close and turn to buds that slip back beneath bare branches, the ground coated in a fine layer of frost. Winter reclaims spring before it fades back into fall. A boy with sapphire eyes looks at Minato like he’s the whole world. Earlier—blood and betrayal, two gunshots ringing out in the night on top of Tartarus. Before that—a different boy, dead too soon (‘ _This is how it should be._ ’). The typhoon and the cancelled culture festival—

_A flash of silver—_

Wait.

 _Play forward_ , he thinks to himself and… _there_. He’s in Tartarus with SEES and as he opens the door to the Velvet Room…

This is _new_.

 

 

_Twisting paths through a maze modelled after Alice in Wonderland. Shadows both familiar and strange. Other creatures, similar, but even more dangerous. Cold, creeping dread in Minato’s gut as he tries to switch Personas and hears only Orpheus’s call (more answer him later, but even then his power is greatly limited). A world on the other side of the Velvet Room that was not present before, and all of SEES by Minato’s side. It looked just like a culture festival at another high school until they entered the exhibit._

_At the end of the labyrinth, they find another group of Persona users locked in combat with more of those not-Shadows. Card soldiers and a Queen of Hearts. The Persona users are surrounded, and Minato can tell immediately that they are nothing like Strega. He meets Mitsuru’s eyes and she nods with understanding before addressing them._

_“You should rest. We’ll take these on!”_

_The other group turns to them, exhausted and bewildered. Minato can make out nine of them, and at the heart of the group is a tall boy with silver hair._

_“Don’t worry,” Minato calls out to them. “Leave the rest to us.”_

_As it turns out, two of the other group’s members, Zen and Rei, are not in fact Persona users, but reside in the high school facsimile. Up close, the silver-haired boy is even taller than he looked from across the crowded foyer. He has a few inches on Shinjiro and is surpassed in height only by his companion with the dyed-blond hair and piercings. His eyes are the same steely colour as his hair and they have been fixed on Minato ever since SEES came to his team’s rescue. It’s a little disconcerting and Minato resolves to avoid making eye-contact with him._

So then why does he keep catching the other boy in the act?

 _He hangs back behind Mitsuru as they gather in the halls of the illusory school—a replica of Yasogami High in Inaba, allegedly. There, they rejoin their supporting teammates and meet up with the Velvet siblings, Elizabeth and Theo, as well as their older sister, Margaret, who claims to be the attendant for the silver-haired boy. Another Wild Card then—it’s no wonder he caught Minato’s attention. A fourth person stands with the Velvet siblings: a peculiar girl who calls herself Marie. Minato senses something alien in her, not unlike the feeling he gets from Pharos, as if she’s not quite human. She doesn’t feel malevolent to him, just_ … other.

_After introducing herself, Mitsuru gestures to Minato and he suddenly finds himself under the full scrutiny of the new Persona users._

_“This is our field leader, Arisato Minato,” Mitsuru says. “He is a second year and uses the fire Persona Orpheus.”_

_“Nice to meet you,” Minato says, clenching and unclenching his fists in his pockets as he tries to look at everyone but the silver-haired boy, who is now staring at him with intense interest._

_It’s a futile effort; the boy steps forward into his space and asks, “Do I… know you from somewhere?”_

_Minato’s heart skips a beat. Eyes like blades piercing into his own. He feels vaguely familiar, but Minato would remember eyes like that. “I don’t know… I don’t think so.”_

_The taller boy hums in thought and turns back to Mitsuru as she continues to introduce the members of SEES, but he doesn’t move away. When the other group begins their own introductions, Minato learns that the boy with silver eyes and hair is named Seta Souji. Their next topic is forging an alliance between the two groups. It’s the path that makes the most sense, given their shared circumstances, and both teams are fascinated with each other; the decision is unanimous._

_Minato turns to Souji and bows politely. “I am in your care.”_

_Souji looks him dead in the eyes and says, “Me eat you whole.”_

_Junpei splutters with horror and confusion next to him but Minato is suddenly thinking of Orthrus and some of his more bestial Personas. He snorts and immediately claps his hand over his mouth and nose with embarrassment._

_Souji’s answering grin is far more pleased than the situation warrants._

Here is what follows: _Souji is always by Minato’s side. He’s less overt about it than Aigis, there are no declarations, but there is always silver in the corner of Minato’s vision. When their eyes meet in the culture festival, Souji smiles. When their eyes meet in the throes of combat, there is fire. It races between them like a burning oil slick, chemical and fluid, and they move as one._

_Minato finds an empty classroom. Souji finds him. When Souji finds him there a second time, it becomes their unofficial meeting place. Souji is different when they’re alone, more verbose. Against his will, Minato finds himself responding in kind. The words bleed out of them and mingle together on the floor between them. They talk about things no one else can understand—social links and multiple Personas. Learning how to reach out after years of throwing up barbed-wire fences. Souji touches him and Minato doesn’t want to push him away._

_The second labyrinth names them destined partners and it feels inevitable. Their hands are stuck together and Souji laces their fingers. Tells him, “I’ll protect you.” Minato’s heart beats too fast and he combats the feeling by teasing the other leader. Souji teases him right back._

_They fight Margaret, just the two of them, because she wants to see the harmony of the Wild Cards. Energy crackles. Sweat drips from Minato’s forehead and clings damply to Souji’s bangs. Their muscles sing with exertion. And when it’s over…_

_“Messiah… He suits you.”_

_Face turned toward him as they sit together on the windowsill. The sun has painted him silver and gold. Minato feels like his chest has been hollowed out and his insides put on display._

_And because he wants Souji to feel the same, Minato tells him, “Izanagi-no-Okami… He’s beautiful.”_

_Later, Souji calls himself the Moon, but Minato looks at him and sees the Star._

Here is how it ends: _they’re joined at the lips, their arms, their hands, their hips, their knees brushing together as they stand in the Velvet Room, alone except for Marie and the Velvet siblings who watch them silently._

 _Against his lips, Souji whispers, “I like you_ so much _.” And then he says, “As soon as I can, I promise I’ll come find you.”_

_After Souji departs through his Velvet Room door, Minato scribbles a hasty letter with shaking hands on a piece of lined paper he found in a classroom. Folds it and thrusts it into Margaret’s hands with a bow as he says, “Please give this to Souji when he solves his mystery. I will be very grateful.”_

_Margaret’s fingers close around the letter and there’s a knife’s edge of pain in her expression as she meets Minato’s eyes, but then her polite smile returns and she tips her head forward, telling him, “I will do as you ask. Be safe on your journey.”_

_Then Minato steps through his own door and the world between worlds disappears._

 

 

Minato hangs suspended in the darkness with the phantom sensation of lips on his. _Seta Souji_. It wasn’t the first time Minato has been kissed, but it was the only time he has ever been kissed by someone he wanted.

It’s jarring to think about: how Minato felt as he exited the Velvet Room and how he felt moments later, back in his own time. One minute the thrill of requited affection, and then no memory of having felt it at all. Silver eyes nothing like cold steel, not _really_ , but a pair of rings warmed in a tender palm. A soft voice that was seldom heard until they were behind closed doors. A voice shared just with him. Gentle lips and gentle hands.

 _Souji_.

Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t been kissed by anyone else ever since. It wasn’t long after the aborted culture festival that Minato came to the conclusion that it was far kinder to be upfront about his decidedly platonic feelings than it was to lead girls on out of some misguided fear of damaging his social links.

Months later, however, romantic affection would stir within Minato again; slower, but not so different. Dark hair and bright blue eyes, a beauty mark next to the left one. Vibrant and talkative, and somehow always knowing how Minato’s sentence was going to end. Ryoji had felt familiar to him too, but Minato was different then. With Souji, falling was easy. He was scarred, but his were old hurts—even if they had never properly healed, he was long used to the dull ache of them. By the time Ryoji came into Minato’s life, he had gained new wounds, fresh and still bleeding.

Perhaps if they’d had a little longer, one of them would have confessed. It was clear that Minato’s feelings were reciprocated. He just didn’t realize how short their time was.

Ryoji was an ember that was gradually coaxed to life. Souji was a wildfire, immediate and all-consuming. Neither invalidated the other; they were all fire and Minato burned all the same. He can’t help but wonder, though, how things would have been different if he had remembered Souji after their side-adventure was over.

He thinks he would have wanted to wait for him. It’s hard to say whether that would have made it easier or harder in the end. It would have made fighting Nyx’s Avatar easier; better to fight a dear friend than someone he had wanted. It wouldn’t have changed his feelings about becoming the Great Seal, but maybe it would have changed how he felt about dying. He wonders if he could have held onto life for a little longer out of sheer stubbornness in the vain hope that he could live to see Souji fulfill his promise.

Ah, that’s right: the letter.

Minato feels a pang of guilt. He never should have written that letter. Margaret _knew_ ; he had seen it all over her face. He hadn’t understood why she looked that way then—how could he?—but now he feels the full weight of that sorrow and the burden he has placed on Souji’s shoulders. Souji could have lived out the rest of his life never knowing. It would be better for him. But Minato was selfish and now he is dead. He will never have to live with his remorse.

There’s no sense of time in this place, no way for Minato to tell if he’s been dead for weeks or years. He wonders if Souji has faced his first Shadow yet. He hopes that Souji will be able to forgive him.

Still as selfish as always.

 

 

Minato can tell when someone comes to speak at his grave. He remembers the smell of incense and thinks of his parents’ headstone. Tries to picture how it would look now with his name accompanying theirs. He can’t make out his visitors’ words, but he gets _feelings_. Sometimes he can tell who it is from the shape of them. Ken visits often; he’s there already to see his mother. Minato always liked him, even after everything that happened in October. He was a good kid who had to deal with too much too soon.

Like Minato.

The memory of incense comes now and Minato quiets his mind to listen to his visitor’s feelings. There’s a long stretch of _nothing_. Perhaps his visitor is like him; he never truly believed in spirits when he was alive. He went to see his parents’ grave after his second day of classes when he came to Iwatodai, and once Minato lit the incense, he knelt with his eyes closed and pressed his palms together as he had seen other people do, but his mind was a blank slate. If he prayed, he didn’t think that there was anyone to listen to him. It was pointless and he felt foolish. After several minutes he simply cleaned up after himself and left, feeling more uncomfortable than he had when he arrived.

Just when Minato is about to resign himself to silence and darkness, the feelings start and they’re… _strange_ —muddy and complicated, like the person they belong to has no idea what they’re doing here. Minato can’t always suss out who is visiting his grave, but there has always been an undercurrent of familiarity; the sense that this is someone who knows him and cares about him. None of that is present now. It feels like a stranger reaching out in desperation. Trying and failing to make a connection.

Gradually, the feelings become fuller and even more awful. There’s anguish and mounting frustration—self-directed. It comes on like a landslide, overpowering and useless to fight. Minato is torn between the urge to comfort his visitor and ignore them. It’s too much. And then…

‘ _I’m sorry_.’

Minato doesn’t _hear_ the words. It doesn’t work like that; he doesn’t hear the voices of the living. But those feelings come through as clear as day, and it’s only as the memory of incense fades that Minato realizes who his visitor must be and his heart sinks.

 _Souji_.

All because of that _fucking_ letter. He couldn’t let go and now Souji is suffering for it.

He thinks of silver eyes and that small, soft smile. The way the left corner of his lips tugs just a little more, making his smile slightly lopsided. Minato has revisited those memories so many times, he could recite their conversations word for word. The curve of Souji’s ear, the dip of his collarbone, the line of his throat, the feel of his mouth. Scarred and callused hands that reach out to lace long fingers through his.

 _I’m so sorry, Souji_ , he thinks, but he knows Souji will not hear it. Dead men cannot speak.

 

 

At first, Minato doesn’t realize that it isn’t a memory. The Velvet Room is familiar territory to him and in his final year of life, it came to feel like home. The blue carpet and padded walls, the circular table before him, draped in silk. His hands are clasped in front of his mouth and his elbows press into his thighs.

His first indication that something has changed is the seat beneath him: it’s plusher than he recalls. He frowns as he looks down and finds himself sitting in Igor’s loveseat. And when he lifts his head, he finds another Wild Card seated across from him in the tiny chair with the harp-shaped back that Minato knows so well. A tall, teenage boy with silver eyes and silver hair.

Souji’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted with shock as he stares back at Minato, just as beautiful as he remembers. Heart swelling in his chest, Minato feels himself smiling. His mind is full of questions: how is this happening? Is it a dream? Can the dead even _have_ dreams? But he brushes them all aside easily. Whatever else this could be, it is an opportunity, and he cannot let it go to waste. He doesn’t care if this is real or not: Souji is here.

“ _Minato_ ,” Souji says in a choked voice. He looks gutted.

He nods, and suddenly the space between them feels like a gulf. Minato stands to close it, circling the table until Souji is in front of him. Souji watches him, unmoving, as if he’s afraid that the scene before him will collapse. Minato feels no such restraint. He lifts his hands—miraculously, not shaking—and brushes his fingertips against the other boy’s face as his eyes fall shut, long lashes casting tiny shadows. His skin is firm and real beneath Minato’s touch. He traces Souji’s cheekbones and the corners of his mouth (thinks about how soft it would feel against his own), and then presses his hands flat to the sides of his face, warmth seeping into his palms.

There are so many things that he wants to say. ‘ _You kept your promise._ ’ ‘ _I heard your voice when I gave my soul to the Universe._ ’ ‘ _I’m in love with the memory of you_.’ None of the words make it to his lips and Minato isn’t sure he has the voice to speak them anyway.

With his eyes still closed, Souji murmurs, “I don’t remember you,” and turns to kiss Minato’s palm, as if in apology.

Minato steps closer and threads his fingers through Souji’s hair, smooth strands slipping easily between them. The touch elicits a shuddering sigh from Souji, tickling Minato’s collarbone, and Minato leans down to kiss his forehead. Inhales the scent of grass and laundry detergent.

 _Nothingness_. Souji is gone and Minato possesses neither eyes to see him with nor hands with which to touch him. Erebus rattles in the darkness and Minato thinks, _goddammit_.

He wishes they could have had longer, but the fact that they had any time at all is nothing short of a miracle. He just hopes that it was enough.

Minato drifts and thinks of the colour silver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end?


	3. Two of Cups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Did y'all really think I was going to leave it there?

_This isn’t a very soft pillow_. That’s the first thing Minato thinks as he feels the unyielding surface beneath his head. It isn’t entirely uncomfortable—it’s preferable to the ground—but he could certainly do better. The thought is immediately followed by the realization that to make such an observation requires the possession of a body, and all at once he becomes aware of the weight of it, limbs full of lead as he lays on a flat surface with only his head elevated. This all feels very familiar.

Minato opens his eyes to see brilliant blue and a halo of golden hair.

“Aigis?” he croaks, his voice rough with disuse.

The mechanical maiden smiles down at him radiantly, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Welcome back, Minato-san.” It's his death in reverse.

Minato sits up too fast, head spinning with the sudden dip in his blood pressure, but it doesn’t matter because he’s twisting around and pulling Aigis into his arms. She makes a broken sound as she clings to him and his neck begins to feel wet.

“I’m so happy,” Aigis says, fingers curling into the back of Minato’s shirt. “I can’t stop crying.”

Minato pulls back just enough to lean down and kiss her cheek. _His dearest friend_. “I don’t understand. Aigis, how is this possible?” This isn’t a memory and it doesn’t feel hazy and dreamy like that one time he met Souji in the Velvet Room. Everything here is vivid and so sharp it almost hurts.

“We have been keeping very busy while you slept,” says another very familiar voice.

Minato turns abruptly to find Elizabeth grinning down at him as she stands a few meters away, one hand braced on the surface of a circular table covered in silk. Back in the Velvet Room. Minato’s first thought is that Elizabeth looks just like he remembers, but then he looks again and finds small discrepancies in the way she holds herself. Feet planted on the carpet, shoulders back, neck tall. She was never lacking in confidence, but there’s a new gleam in her eyes. This isn’t the confidence of a child, but the confidence of someone who has fought and earned it. A Fool who has reached the end of their journey and found a satisfying answer.

Minato cups Aigis’s face and kisses her cheek once more before he delicately extracts himself from her arms to stand. In a few short steps, Elizabeth is before him and he draws her into a warm embrace, one hand cradling the back of her head.

Elizabeth hums into his shoulder, hands splayed across his back, and she says, “Welcome to the Velvet Room, new brother. In time we will find you clothes that fit properly, but Theo’s will do for now.”

_Wait, what?_

Minato’s eyes snap open and his breath catches as he sees not blue bangs hanging over his eye, but champagne blond. He stumbles back a step, looking down at himself incredulously. In lieu of his school uniform, he is dressed in a loose pair of black pants and a black dress shirt, the sleeves hanging just past his fingertips. His feet are bare and Minato is certain that the only reason his trousers haven’t fallen to his ankles is the belt cinched at his waist.

A million questions rise to his tongue, but the only one that reaches his lips is, “Elizabeth, _what did you do?_ ”

She laughs, clasping her hands together with delight. “That is a very long story and you still have one more friend to greet.”

Minato blinks and suddenly he notices the room’s third occupant, who has been standing quietly and patiently next to the harp-backed chair this whole time.

“ _Souji_.”

Minato is met with a small, shy smile. He moves around Elizabeth with a gentle hand on her shoulder, and his legs feel more unsteady the closer he comes to the silver-haired boy. He’s older than Minato remembers, just a little. His cheeks have lost some of their softness and, infuriatingly, he has grown even taller. He would barely need to raise his chin now to rest it on top of Minato’s head. His body is as still as a statue, but Souji’s eyes follow Minato with the same intensity as they did when they first met in the labyrinth.

Minato stops in front of him, hands trembling and his heart racing rabbit-fast. He has always been taciturn by nature, but now he is full of words that fight for use of his voice. Aigis and Elizabeth are still here, but they feel muted, like a curtain has fallen between them and the place where Souji and Minato stand with locked eyes and nervous hands.

Minato parts his lips with his tongue, pauses. _Words, words, words_. Takes a deep breath to centre himself, and then he says, “Do you remember me?”

Souji’s gaze drops to the floor and a slight flush rises to his cheeks. “N—no. We met once in the Velvet Room a year ago, but before that—”

“Close enough.” Minato reaches for Souji’s jaw and pulls him down to press their mouths hard together.

He still tastes the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this. I started out this companion story with this final scene in mind. Initially it was going to be from Souji's perspective, but I thought that this would be more fun. I hope you enjoyed it!


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